Gemotions

Liam was on cloud nine. His little diner, "Liam's Lunchbox," had always struggled, a tiny greasy spoon lost in a sea of chains. Then, "Mama Rosa's Pasta Salad" appeared on the national food blog. The comments were overwhelmingly positive. Every single one. Suddenly, the phone wouldn't stop ringing.

He had no idea who Mama Rosa was, but that pasta salad… that was his grandmother's recipe. The one he’d begged her to write down, the one she’d sworn he couldn’t share. The memory of the way she’d laugh when he tried to help her in the kitchen was as clear as the summer sky.

He spent the morning ordering extra ingredients, a manic grin plastered on his face. The air crackled with a nervous energy he couldn't control.

He turned on the radio, blasting his favourite song as he danced in the kitchen while preparing the dish, humming with the sound. The joy, the sheer audacity of it all, filled him from head to toe.